


all of this (and then some)

by blondeslytherin



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Kinktober 2019, M/M, see each chapter for individual tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-10 18:07:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20856008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blondeslytherin/pseuds/blondeslytherin
Summary: KINKTOBER: 2019, Klance style (each chapter title will be the kink of the day, and please check chapter descriptions for other tags)





	1. spanking

**Author's Note:**

> hey friends!! i know i've been MIA from some of my other works (oops) but i've had a lot of health problems recently and it's just not been great for me. i haven't felt like i've been able to put as much into my other works as i want, but with this one, it's easy to just write and have it be whatever. so, here's to hoping i'll be able to keep up with this, but if not, that's okay! it's just supposed to be fun! thanks, as always, for reading and the endless support. 
> 
> comments and kudos are appreciated and loved <3
> 
> (oh, and because i have to put it here, the tags for chap 1 are: spanking, training, top keith, bottom lance, thigh fucking, praise kink)

Goddamn he’s fucking exhausted.

They had been training for over an hour at this point and _yes_, Lance was _fully aware _they had battles longer than this, training sessions longer than this, and even _arguments _longer than this. But—he’s fucking tired, okay?

He’s not used to the sword in his hands, nor Keith’s fighting style, nor anything else they’ve done today. It’s weird and unfamiliar in his hands and he doesn’t quite understand how to wield it yet so frankly, he’s done for the day.

His bayard falls out of his hands once more, clattering to the ground before changing into the standard position and skittering away. He growls at it, and unsurprisingly, it gives no reply as it glares at him from the floor. Or, wait, is he glaring at it? See, that’s how tired he is—he doesn’t know which one of them is the actual problem.

The Actual Problem huffs from behind him, and Lance looks to the ceiling in a silent prayer before retrieving his weapon off the floor.

“Again,” Keith says, and Lance mimics him with his back turned.

_Yessir, team leader, _he thinks with no small amount of sass. _Let me just pick up the sword you’ve knocked out of my hand for the twelfth time and we’ll go again, pretending it’ll be different this time! Sounds great!_

He doesn’t realize he’s mouthing the words until Keith cocks his head at him, eyes narrowed, and Lance abruptly shuts his mouth. His cheeks heat up and he busies himself with readying his Altean longsword again, dropping into the stance that Allura drilled into him when they first started training in the Circle of Hell. You know, the one where the floor dropped out _right after _you were quite painfully shot? Fun times.

Lance’s head isn’t with him, clear from everything today that has led up to this point, so when Keith lunges at him, he stumbles. Falls back and they’re fighting once more, his arms burning as he blocks strike after strike.

Sweat beads on his forehead and he could really use the headband that’s presently sitting on his bed back in the room he longs for so much right now. The privacy. The way he’ll be alone. The thick walls that will absolutely block out any and all sounds of Lance getting off to the memory of what it was like to fight Keith sword-to-sword today.

And there it is; the real reason Lance can’t fucking focus today. It’s the first time he’s really fought Keith like this, and while he’s spent many-a-times admiring Keith’s fighting through the scope of his rifle, he’s never been close enough to see _this_.

The way fly-away hairs cling to the back of his neck. The taught muscles in his throat, the way he sucks on his lower lip when he’s concentrating on besting Lance. The black tshirt absolutely drenched in sweat and the muscles Lance can picture perfectly outlined by the dark fabric. The seat of his pants, pulled against his perfect ass, which Lance catches a glimpse of when Keith side-steps to come at him from a different angle.

Lance barely manages to block it in time, shaking all thoughts of Keith from his head. Admitedly, rather hard to do (no pun intended).

“What is wrong with you today?” Keith growls.

“Nothing,” Lance snaps back. “I’m not fucking used to this, that’s all.”

“That’s the point of training, learning. But if you’re not putting in effort—” Keith swings at him “—then you won’t get any better.”

“Fuck off.”

Keith does something tricky with his feet in the middle of their bickering, and Lance doesn’t see the blow coming in time. He manages to twist his body so that the sword doesn’t catch him in the side (not that he thinks Keith would ever hurt him on purpose, especially not in training). Instead, it lands a solid smack on Lance’s ass.

The inadvertent squeak that comes out of his mouth seems to echo in the vast training room.

The bayard clatters from his hand again and this time it’s not because Keith bested him, oh no siree.

“Did you just… yelp… when I smacked your ass?”

_Oh god, he heard it. Fuck, fuck, there’s no way I can cover this up.  
_“Yeah, cause it caught me by surprise, duh.” There’s no way his voice is as chill as his brain says it is, but here’s to hoping Keith isn’t going to catch on.

“…yeah. Yeah, alright. Okay. Let’s—let’s keep going. One more round, and then we can be done for the day.”

He’s too busy mentally screaming to catch the flush that is definitely not from exertion steadily creeping up Keith’s neck.

Lance gets his weapon off the floor once more, dusts himself off, rolls his neck.

_He can do this. Just, you know, concentrate on keeping all your limbs on your body and then you can go and fuck your hand until the sky turns to dawn. You’ll be fine._

Keith shifts his weight from foot to foot, eyeing Lance’s own feet as he preps.

And then they’re off again. He’s matching him strike for strike, countering and even managing to advance once or twice. For the first time today, Lance feels like he’s actually learning and improving.

Keith has a look of utter concentration on his face, eyes narrowed and lower lip pinned firmly by his top teeth. Metal on metal, blade again blade, and Lance feels the pump of adrenaline in his system, the thrill of a battle well-fought.

Until Keith does that thing with his feet again, feinting one way only to strike at Lance’s open side. And just like before, Lance twists so that the hit lands on his ass.

It’s more of a groan this time, rather than a yelp, if you took a moment to poll the audience.

And then it’s dead silent. Crickets. Mice scurrying to spill secrets. Pidge, snickering from far away, a sixth sense telling her that Lance just embarrassed himself.

“Did…”

“Yep.”

He’s about to throw himself off the nearest space-balcony from sheer mortification. There’s heat rising under his skin as hard as he tries to fight it, coloring his cheeks and sparking interest in his gut. This is neither the time nor the place for this—

“So you’re into having your ass slapped.” It’s matter-of-fact. Stated as if the entire world already knew this about Lance.

He’s turning, trying to meet Keith’s eye. “Listen—” But the words stop on the tip of his tongue when he sees Keith’s face. It’s not angry, or upset, or even disgusted. It’s…

_Hot as all fucking hell, that’s what._

His eyes are still narrowed like he’s concentrating on a fight, but his lower lip now juts out, throat bobbing as he audibly swallows.

“Never knew you were into that kind of thing,” Keith says in a low voice.

“You never asked,” Lance replies in the same tone, surprising even himself. _Ohhhh boy, what’s about to go down here?_

Keith takes a half a step forward, his own sword dropping to the ground. “Wouldn’t have pegged you as the type.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, pretty boy.”

_It’s dangerous—he’s playing with fire._

“Maybe I want to learn.”

_But damn if the flame wasn’t hot._

It’s quick, the change from _then _and _now._ Then had Keith a few paces away, and now has him pressed up against Lance, hands behind his neck. Then Lance had been unsure and now Lance was more unsure of anything in his life but goddamn he’s ready to get lost. There was then but now there’s only now and now they’re on the floor, Keith’s mouth a gravity all on its own.

Lance can’t help but groan into the kiss, hips bucking on their own accord. He’s hard already (he’d be lying if he claimed to have been entirely unaroused during training), and he can feel Keith through their workout clothes.

His hands are mapping out every bit of skin he’s spent long nights thinking about, fisting in hair he’s been dying to pull.

It’s that exact motion that gets a noise out of Keith. Lance does it again, harder this time, and is thrilled when Keith breaks the kiss in order to let out a moan.

They’re rocking together in a steady rhythm, and he’s close already.

“Fuck—close, Keit_hh_—”

Rough hands pull him back from the edge and spin him around, stomach hitting the mats and knocking the air out of his lungs. Those same hands then drag his hips back up and Lance gets the unspoken message, adjusting properly.

“Any chance you have lube?” says Keith in a gravely voice and wow that’s way too hot.

Lance shakes his head, hanging between his shoulders, no verbal abilities in the present moment.

“Guess we’ll just have to take it further next time.”

There’s no time to ponder _that _statement before his pants are being yanked down, legs spread despite the confines of his pants. Keith spits into his hands, wet and loud, and Lance’s legs shake as he feels the saliva being spread between his thighs.

“Are you going to be a good boy for me here?”

“Fuck yes,” Lance groans.

“Good. You might just earn yourself a treat if you behave.”

Keith slicks his dick with spit, and then pushes it between Lance’s thighs, head glistening with precum. They both sigh at the contact, Lance’s eyes fluttering shut.

His thrusts are shallow at first, the tip just barely knocking into Lance’s balls. They speed up quickly, until they’re both steadily rocking. Keith’s breathing is picking up, but Lance is still stuck somewhere in the middle; thoroughly enjoying the sex but not even close to the edge.

“Are you being a good boy for me?”

“Ugh—yes—yes, Keit_hh_—” Keith’s name comes out as a shout instead as his hand smacks Lance’s ass. There’s the sting after and Lance relishes in it, gasping.

“Please, _please_—” Keith spanks him again, and Lance groans, dick weeping onto the foam mats.

Keith’s left hand snakes around to pull at his cock while the other continues to smack Lance’s ass, until Lance’s entire body is shaking.

He comes with a shout when Keith’s hand hits particularly hard, and Keith follows him right after, warm liquid dripping down Lance’s thighs and balls.

They both collapse onto the mat—Lance on his stomach, Keith on his back next to him—chests heaving.

“Well that was certainly a fun sword session.”


	2. dirty talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're 13 hours apart, 12,000 kilometers from each other. Sometimes the only way to bridge the gap is through phone sex.
> 
> tags: phone sex, dirty talk, a touch of angst, missing each other, masturbation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kinktober day 2 bitchesssss
> 
> comments and kudos are loved and appreciated <3

12,595 kilometers. That’s how far it is between them right now. An ocean and then some, 13 hours difference in time, Monday for Lance, Tuesday morning for Keith.

Two months, eighteen days, and a few minutes give or take until they’re both back in Arizona, in each other’s arms. It’s not long at all, by some standards, but it’s killing him presently.

They’re both gone for the summer in their respective hometowns. Lance is back with his _entire _extended family, and Keith is visiting his mom where she works and where he was born. It’s a weird but fun experience according to Keith, and although Lance wishes for more frequent updates, he’s thrilled that he gets any at all.

_It’s just for the summer. _That’s the mantra that keeps going through his head. They can do long distance for the summer—they were going to have to, anyways. But this—this _distance_—had not been anticipated. The gap between them. The way each and every phone call felt strained, the happy pictures they toss back and forth feel forced. Everything feels wrong and nothing feels right.

Lance hates it.

Keith hates it.

But they love each other. And that’s enough, for two months, eighteen days, and a few less minutes, give or take. Not that either of them are counting.

Lance is laying in his bed, staring up at his ceiling and refusing to check at the clock every other second, waiting for the phone call to come through. They’re already five minutes past their scheduled phone call time, and Lance really doesn’t have forever away from his family; this was tough enough to come by as is. But he’d tried to call Keith and gotten a ‘_just a few more minutes, sorry, out rn’ _in response, so here Lance is. Waiting. For a phone call. Like a goddamn middle schooler.

He hates himself in the way he practically leaps in bed when his phone starts ringing, answering instantly and bringing it up to his ear.

“Hey, babe.” Keith’s voice is rough, diluted by the phone and the distance, but it’s still _his_. Keith’s voice.

Lance feels himself melting back into the pillows, wobbly smile on his mouth. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too. More than you could ever know.”

“No way, babe. I definitely miss you more.”

“Mm, not possible, but I’ll let it go this time. I don’t really have long.”

Lance deflates, just a tad. They’re barely able to schedule weekly calls and he knows what Keith wants (what Lance wants too) but he was hoping for just a little more. A little more catch up before they go straight into the sex. More _love _than _lust_.

But if sex is what keeps them connected then by god Lance is going to cling to it.

_Do you know how hard it is to love someone across an ocean?_

“Yeah, me too.”

_It’s only hard when you put the distance there._

“God, I miss you. Miss the feeling of your hand in mine. Your mouth on my dick.” Keith’s voice is in that rough tone now, and Lance knows he’s horny. He is too, don’t get him wrong.

But the _missing _is overriding everything else.

“The first thing I’m gonna do is blow you when you get back.”  
“Really? Right in the middle of the airport where everyone can see?”

“You know it babe. Put on a full show, let them all see just how much I adore that big cock of yours.”

He cringes, the words feeling wrong coming out of his mouth. Keith eats that shit up though; his groan seems to echo in Lance’s ear.

“Fuck, Lance, the things you do to me…”

“The things I’d love to do to you, darling.”

“Tell me what you wanna do.”

There’s the sound of something positively _slick _over the phone, and Lance swallows hard before continuing. “I want to see you, first. Kiss you long and hard to make up for every mile between us right now. Pretend like we haven’t spent the summer apart and then let you fuck me for every minute we lost to the ocean. Scream your name like it’s the only word that I know. God, I want you inside of me right now. No one gives it to me like you do.”

It finally has Keith playing along. “Fuck, Lance, oh my god. I want to bend you over the bed and just ram that pretty little ass of yours until you can’t walk the next day. I want to hear you screaming my name, begging for more until you have to beg me to stop because you can’t take the pleasure anymore. Let you suck my big dick, slobber all of it like the messy whore you are.”

Lance moans, and Keith echoes the sentiment.

“I—I’m close,” Keith grinds out, and Lance can hear it in his voice. Can picture it perfectly in his mind. _Keith, shoulders curled over and the phone next to his ear on speaker. Right hand on his dick, going faster and faster in the way he only lets himself touch, left fingers pinching his nipples. The glistening head and the way he’s about to make a mess of his hotel sheets, cleaning it up and leaving it to dry because Lance was the only one who seemed to care about aftercare. The way he’s shaking now, thighs trembling, breath shuddering—_

“Lanceeeeeee” comes the drawn out, barely an actual word, Keith in Korea.

Lance simply moans, staring at his soft dick still clad in gray sweatpants. Later, he’ll regret not taking the opportunity while it was there, but for now, he just stares. Waits for Keith to come down from his high.

“Hey,” Keith says, voice back to normal. “I’ve gotta go now. Mom wants to meet me by a certain time.”

“I understand,” Lance says, eyes burning. “I love you.”

A moment’s hesitation. “I love you too. Bye.”

The line cuts before Lance can say goodbye back. His phone slips off his shoulder and lands on the bed, wet with tears. A grand total of five minutes and thirty-four seconds of talking.

_How do you love someone across an ocean?_

Lance pushes the heels of his hands into his eye sockets.

_You count the days until they come home and pray the distance they put in place wasn’t too much to bridge._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (that awkward moment when some of the dialogue is taken from real sexts that have been sent to me)
> 
> anyways yeah, this one is kinda sad because when i saw the prompt of phone sex my brain said "hmmm" and immediately decided i was going to write out some unresolved emotion toward a certain ex i did long distance with. so yeah. that's that.
> 
> thanks for reading, and for all of you that have subscribed, i'm so excited to take this journey with you!!


	3. semi-public sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're at a wedding and Lance is utterly surrounded by love and affection--so of course he feels the need to blow his fiance in the bathroom.
> 
> tags: semi-public sex, bathroom sex, blowjobs, masturbation, love, hair pulling, forearm kink (is that a thing? you know? when guys roll up their sleeves and it is Hot??), getting caught (kind of)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so tired and i know these really aren't the content i'm normally posting but i really like the fact that i'm writing every day and doing Things and putting humor into it that i normally really don't. so yeah i'm tired and posting this and i hope you like and enjoy!!
> 
> comments and kudos are loved and appreciated <3

So here’s the deal.

Lance _told _Keith not to wear that outfit in public. It was a very clear, very _real _conversation that they had. And Keith gave a simple shrug of a shoulder and decided he was still going to wear it out anyways because fuck Lance’s self control.

_Fuck, Lance’s self-control. It was a thing quickly and steadily dwindling._

He had a thing for cuffed sleeves, okay? Sue him. Keith looked _damn good _in that dark red button down top and he’s having a bit of trouble breathing normally when Keith undoes the buttons and rolls the sleeves up to just under his elbows. It shouldn’t be hot. It’s not hot.

_OH, but it is. And Lance is a fool in love._

They’re at his sister’s wedding, for goddsake. It’s a fact that Keith very ungently reminds him of as Lance practically dislocates his shoulder trying to remove them into the bathroom as quickly as possible.

Because _goddamn. _

Keith’s hair is down and his eyes are lightly lined so that the purple is practically glowing, and his mouth looks absolutely kissable. The dark red only loosens Lance’s inhibition more, the black slacks framing his ass perfectly.

He’s a sucker for Keith. Everyone knows it.

So really, who can blame him for what comes next?

The bathroom is—blessedly—a single, so there’s an easy lock and full privacy. Lance makes full use of the wooden door, slamming his fiancé (oh yeah, that’s right, he’s gonna put a ring on that motherfucker) into the oak and attacking his mouth. Keith pulls away a little at the force of it and Lance softens. He doesn’t want to hurt him. Keith knows this, sensing the change and kissing back eagerly.

Lance’s hands are fumbling with Keith’s belt, while Keith has his fingers simply looped in the beltloops, not making any effort to help down there at all.

_Guess I have to do all the work in this relationship._

He gets the belt undone and the zipper open, pulling Keith’s cock out and giving it a long stroke.

“You fucker,” he whispers against Keith’s mouth. “You said you weren’t feeling it at all.”

Keith’s fully hard dick gives a jump in Lance’s hand when Lance squeezes it. “I lied,” he breathes. “Are you going to blow me or not?”

“Am I gonna blow you?” Lance scoffs. “Of course. Who do you take me to be?”

“Well right now, a tease—”

He shuts up when Lance goes back to kissing him, breaking away from his mouth and leaving a trail of hickeys down his neck, which Keith hisses at him for. But seriously, with a neck like _that_, who is Lance _not _to mark it up?

Lance drops to his knees with a solid thunk, painful reverberations shooting up his thighs. He ignores it though, focusing his eyes on the dick in front of him. Keith’s been hard for most of the day (hmm, maybe it was Keith who told Lance not to wear what he was wearing? He’s a little too preoccupied to remember exactly) and the head is practically weeping.

It’s lewd, the way he licks a long stripe from the base of his dick, all the way back to the head which he takes into his mouth and sucks on. This time the thunk comes from Keith’s head hitting the door, a low groan escaping his mouth.

“Fuck, how are you so good at this?”

Lance swirls his tongue around the head instead, scraping his teeth over the place he knows is most sensitive. Keith’s thighs are shaking under Lance’s hands, and Lance loves the way his hips tremble with restraint.

He bobs his head, feeling fingers knot in his hair, guiding him down, up, down, up. His own dick is painfully hard in his dress pants, and he’s a little worried he’s going to come in them. Reluctantly, he lets go of one of Keith’s thighs in order to pull his own dick out, pulsing at the relief of contact.

After all their years together, it’s easy to time the familiar rhythm of his mouth on Keith’s dick with his hand on his own.

“Fuck, Lance, close…”

He speeds up, sucking on the head and tasting the salt that leaks out onto his tongue. His own core is trembling with his impending orgasm, and he can feel it behind his abs.

“Lance--!” is the only warning he gets, pulling back just enough so that his mouth is still around Keith’s dick but so that he won’t choke on the cum. He still does, coughing a little as he pulls back and smearing it on his cheek.

Keith’s pupils are blown wide when Lance looks up, his face hazy in a way only post-orgasm brain can create.

_I love you_, is what Lance thinks. _I love you in every state, in every way, in every moment._

Cum spurts into his own hand, his vision spotting with the force of his orgasm. He manages to miss getting most of it on his nice pants, but still has to wash a few drops off with papertowels soaked from the faucet.

They’re cleaned up, sharing a few soft kisses as Lance runs his hands up and down those glorious forearms.

Their foreheads rest together, and Lance distantly hears a slow dance playing from the DJ. He can imagine all of the couples out there, swaying gently as the DJ slowly asks couples to leave until whoever has been married the longest is the only one remaining.

_One day, _he thinks. _One day that’s going to be us, the first time when we’re just married and every time after that because we’ve been together the longest._

They’re nonchalantly strolling out of the bathroom as Lance makes eye-contact with his sister walking out of the women’s room, her own new wife in tow, and they share a moment of eye contact only siblings can have.

He winks at her as she flushes and hides Axca, and as Lance squeezes Keith’s hand again.

_You’re my forever, always._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come shout at me @
> 
> tumblr: blondeslytherin  
insta: blondeslytherine

**Author's Note:**

> well anyways we'll see if i can keep up with this (no promises though). thanks y'all!! 
> 
> comments and kudos are loved and appreciated <3


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